


what really knocked me out was his cheap sunglasses

by blackrose1002, BlackVultures



Series: MacDalton and Props [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 08:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19058872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/pseuds/BlackVultures
Summary: Jack forgot he was wearing the glasses for a moment, too busy clutching at his pounding heart and regretting every sneaking trick he ever taught Mac. “Holyshit, I didn’t know I was dating a ninja.”Mac laughed at Jack’s reaction, but his eyebrows drew down when he noticed the glasses, head tilting to one side curiously. “I didn’t know you needed glasses.”Jack rushed to pull them off his face, quickly setting them aside. “I… I don’t, this is nothin’,” he said, but he was aware it sounded less than convincing.(Also known as: Jack needs reading glasses. Mac likes them. A lot.)





	what really knocked me out was his cheap sunglasses

**Author's Note:**

> ... so this is probably here a LOT quicker than you were expecting, right? Well, [blackrose1002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002) and I NEVER REST and I need every distraction I can get from school, so have some more smut! This fic's kinky item is Jack Dalton in glasses, and if you've ever seen George Eads in glasses, you KNOW why that's a kink. While this is technically part of a series you probably don't need to read the previous fic to understand this one? It's mentioned once, but that's it. As always, I put this one together so any mistakes are my own, and please let us know what you think!
> 
> (Title is from "Cheap Sunglasses" by ZZ Top because I could think of literally nothing else to use, I'm sorry.)

It happened like this: Jack was up earlier than usual one morning about a week after he’d moved into Mac’s house, sitting out on the deck and reading the _LA Times,_ doing the crossword… and wearing his reading glasses. He’d had them for a while and wasn’t ashamed—his distance vision was still sharp as a tack—but as much as he loved Mac, there was something stopping him from wearing the glasses around him. But he figured he was safe, because Mac liked to sleep in when they had a day off from work and even if he woke up, Jack would’ve heard him moving around the house or coming on to the deck.

Right?

Wrong.

The house _and_ the deck both betrayed Jack by not squeaking like they usually did, and that was why Jack jumped a mile in the air and the newspaper flew out of his hands when Mac said from behind his shoulder, “Twelve across is ‘mitochondria’.”

Jack forgot he was wearing the glasses for a moment, too busy clutching at his pounding heart and regretting every sneaking trick he ever taught Mac. “Holy _shit_ , I didn’t know I was dating a ninja.”

Mac laughed at Jack’s reaction, but his eyebrows drew down when he noticed the glasses, head tilting to one side curiously. “I didn’t know you needed glasses.”

Jack rushed to pull them off his face, quickly setting them aside. “I… I don’t, this is nothin’,” he said, but he was aware it sounded less than convincing.

Mac pushed Jack’s legs to the side a little so they could share the same part of the bench. His clever fingers snatched up the glasses, holding them up to his own eyes briefly. “Babe, they’re just glasses,” he said, smiling a little. “You’re acting like I caught you with a bomb—well, maybe not, we both kind of expect bombs at this point.” His brows furrowed again. “Wait, have you been… hiding these? Why?”

Jack tipped his head back to look at the sky. “Well, _hiding_ might be a bit too strong…” Even though he totally had been hiding them. “More like avoiding using them unless I was alone.”

“I’m missing something, aren’t I? Okay, you know _I_ have glasses, even if I don’t wear them all the time, plus it’s not like this is middle school and I’m gonna call you a nerd.” Mac stared at the glasses in his hands for another moment before he made a frustrated sound and looked at Jack. “I don’t get it. But I’m also not going to let it go, so you might as well tell me.”

“Of course you won’t,” Jack muttered, but there was fondness in his voice. He sighed, knowing there was no way out of it. “I just… I didn’t want you to think that maybe I’m not capable of watching your back in the field anymore.” He hoped maybe giving Mac one reason would be enough to end the conversation, because Jack sure as hell didn’t want to reveal the other one—that he was afraid Mac would realize Jack was too old for him and break things off.

Mac made the face that he usually reserved for one of Bozer’s bad jokes, where he scrunched up his nose and eyes at the same time. “They’re _reading_ glasses, Jack, they don’t affect your aim. And besides, you’d never put me in danger like that.” He paused. “You’re not lying, because you don’t lie to me but also because you _did_ think I might think that… so what’s the other reason?”

Jack cursed internally, both at himself for apparently not being able to hide anything from Mac _and_ at Mac for being so damn smart and perceptive. But he figured maybe trying to convince Mac there was nothing else was worth a shot, even though Mac just got done saying Jack didn’t lie to him. “That’s it, man. That was the only reason, and I’m sure as hell glad you don’t think I’m too blind to watch over you.”

Mac squinted at him suspiciously. He set the glasses back down before he moved, throwing a leg over Jack’s and sitting in his lap, arms lacing around his neck. “Now you’re trying to lie to me but you’re not doing it very well.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Jack’s stubbly cheek. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

Jack’s hands automatically went to Mac’s thighs, sliding them up to rest on his hips. He took in a deep breath and looked up at Mac, but the words died in his throat when he saw Mac gazing at him with so much affection. What if Mac didn’t think Jack was too old when he saw the glasses, but once Jack said it out loud he would suddenly realize it was true? He took in another deep breath before he turned his gaze away, staring at Mac’s collarbone. “I didn’t want you see me wearing them and realize that… maybe I’m too old for you after all. Didn’t want you to walk away because of that.”

“Wait, what?” Disbelief colored Mac’s voice, and he slid his hands around to frame Jack’s face, which was enough to get Jack to look at him. “Jack, I… why would I care how old you are?” He sounded genuinely baffled by the idea. “Does our age difference bother _you_?”

“No, of course not,” Jack said quickly. “But… I guess I just didn’t want the glasses to remind you that I _am_ older. And make you realize that maybe you’d be better off with someone your age. It sure as hell would make your life easier.”

Mac was quiet for a moment. “I’m confused again. How would being with someone my own age make my life easier? There’s nobody I trust more than you, and you’re ridiculously attractive—I’ve always known you were older than me, but that’s never really made a difference?” He was talking it out like he would a problem in the field, studying it from every angle.

Jack wasn’t sure how to explain it but it looked like Mac was going to make him spell it out. “People tend to frown upon big age differences.” He was aware it was a stupid argument, but for some reason he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “And I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize you’re tired of that and that you’ve wasted so much time being with me.”

Mac’s mouth quirked upward, his hands moving to squeeze Jack’s tensed shoulders. “Fun fact: my dad was twelve years older than my mom. My dad told me a story once about how one of my mom’s uncles got drunk at their wedding and called him a cradle robber. In front of like, three hundred people.” One of his hands touched Jack’s face again. “I don’t care what other people think, Jack. All the people who love us don’t give a shit about our age gap.”

Staring at Mac with wide eyes, Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to figure out how to respond. But even though he knew Mac meant everything he said, there was still a part of Jack that was certain this wouldn’t last and that eventually Mac would realize Jack wasn’t the right person for him.

Mac’s small smile faded away, his eyes turning serious. “You’re still not convinced.” He leaned over and picked up the glasses again, sliding them on Jack’s face. His smile returned, a little brighter than before, and he leaned in to whisper, like he was telling Jack a secret: “I think they make you look sexy. Well, sexier than usual.”

Jack wasn’t expecting that, and he couldn’t stop his sharp intake of breath when Mac started nipping at his earlobe, as if to punctuate what he’d just said. His hands were frozen on Mac’s hips as Mac pressed his lips to his ear, before trailing them down the side of his neck. He kissed his way back up and bit at Jack’s jaw before moving to his lips for an actual kiss, swiping his tongue across Jack’s lower lip. Since there was no universe in which Jack wouldn’t kiss Mac back, he did, letting out a small sound when Mac slipped his tongue between Jack’s lips. Jack wrapped his arms around Mac’s waist, pulling them closer together.

Mac grinned, tilting his head up to nip at Jack’s upper lip before breaking the kiss. His arms were around Jack’s neck, thighs squeezing at his hips. “So what do I need to do to convince you?” he asked, lifting one finger to push the glasses back up where they’d slipped down Jack’s nose, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Well, what you were just doing seemed to… seemed to work,” Jack managed to say, cursing his inability to gather his thoughts, but that was the effect kissing Mac had on him. And he knew that look in Mac’s eyes too well—it usually meant Mac was about to pull off something insane and/or explosive.

Mac laughed a little, a short, genuine sound that only a few people ever got to hear. “If you say so,” he murmured, and dove in again, kissing Jack like it was all he ever wanted to do.

While their lips moved together Mac’s hands slid down Jack’s chest, warm and affectionate, and Jack remembered absently that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. And as it usually did, Mac’s hand stopped briefly when it reached the nasty knife scar Jack had on his chest, too close to his heart, and Jack gasped against Mac’s mouth when he ran his thumb over it. Jack’s own hands tightened in the back of Mac’s t-shirt because of course Mac was wearing a shirt, but at least it was only one and not three or four.

Mac’s lips broke away from Jack’s again, reattaching to his throat, sucking little kisses down a path to his chest. He licked over the knife scar and earned a shudder from Jack, continuing to kiss as far down as he could reach comfortably before sliding out of Jack’s grasp. Before Jack could wonder why, Mac was on his knees in front of him, fingers hooked in the waistband of Jack’s sleep pants in a wordless question. Jack’s brain shut off, but he managed to give Mac a nod, lifting his hips so Mac could pull the pants off. It was while he was watching that that Jack realized he was still wearing the damn glasses and reached up to take them off, but Mac’s hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Oh, no,” Mac said with a smirk. “Those stay on.”

Jack got the distinct feeling he might die out on the back deck, because _holy shit_. When he moved his hand back down Mac’s fingers unclamped from his wrist in favor of joining his other hand in rubbing at Jack’s thighs. And with those big blue eyes staring up at Jack the whole time, Mac leaned in and licked a stripe up Jack’s cock from base to tip before sucking the head into his mouth. Jack’s hips stuttered involuntarily because Mac’s mouth on his cock combined with the eye contact was enough to make him go a little insane, but before he could recover Mac was sinking lower, and one of Jack’s hands went to grip the edge of the bench while he tangled the other in Mac’s hair.

Mac hummed his approval of Jack’s hand in his hair, pulling back up before sinking down again, even further, the head of Jack’s cock buried in the velvet heat of his throat. It was wet and tight and absolutely perfect and Jack revised his earlier prediction: he was now 100% certain he was going to die out on the deck. Mac seemed intent on speeding up that process, bobbing his head, tongue flicking at the ridge near the tip when he almost pulls off before plunging back down again. Jack couldn’t help the sounds escaping from his throat, groaning when Mac did something spectacular with that mouth of his, hand tightening in Mac’s hair. And honestly, if this was how he was going to die, Jack would die happy, but a small part of him wondered if that was all Mac had planned—because if there was more, it could end way too soon if Mac kept it up.

And as if Mac could read his thoughts—or more likely his body—he pulled off Jack’s cock, licking his lips afterward and blinking up at Jack. Another devious smile curled his mouth, and he asked, “So you think you can fuck me, old man?” His tone was pure teasing, juxtaposed with the love in his eyes.

Jack made an indecent sound and reached down to grab Mac by his t-shirt and tug him back up to crash their lips together again. One hand stayed in Mac’s hair, Jack’s other arm wrapping tightly around his waist. Mac planted his hands on Jack’s shoulders for balance since he’d just gone from kneeling to being back in Jack’s lap, and he laughed into the kiss, like a shot of pure joy.

After a moment Mac moved his hands to Jack’s face and pulled back enough to suggest, “Maybe a bed would be good?”

Jack made an affirmative noise as they kissed again, sliding his hands down to Mac’s thighs and standing, picking Mac up without much of a problem. He felt Mac smile against his lips, and the bastard did his best to distract Jack while he walked them to Mac’s—no, _their_ —room, sucking on Jack’s tongue before leaving his mouth to nip at his jaw again. Jack’s bed and some of his furniture might’ve been in Bozer’s old room, but Mac’s room was where Jack belonged, full stop.

Evidently Mac began to see the flaw in Jack keeping his glasses on when Jack accidentally rammed him back-first into a doorframe, because he laughed and said, “Okay, you should probably take your glasses off after all?”

Jack chuckled, muttering a quiet apology and letting Mac remove the glasses, setting them on the nightstand. He dropped Mac on the bed and had to take the opportunity to smirk down at him, completely naked while Mac was still dressed. That was all the prompting Mac needed to rip his t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside and pausing to rake his hair out of his face. Meanwhile, Jack crawled on the bed, and with a devilish grin he hooked his fingers in Mac’s sweatpants and pulled them down, agonizingly slow until they passed his cock—then Mac just kicked them off, grabbing Jack by the shoulders to pull him down for a kiss.

“Someone’s impatient,” Jack murmured, nipping at Mac’s bottom lip and deepening the kiss while Mac spread his legs for Jack to settle between them. He was leaning his weight on his forearms as he devoured Mac’s mouth, and like he usually did while they did this, Jack thought kissing Mac might be his favorite thing in the world.

“Can you blame me?” The words are slightly muffled by Jack’s lips, Mac’s hands exploring the familiar skin of his back. “I’ve been turned on since I saw you on the deck with the newspaper.” He hooked a leg over Jack’s waist and ground them together, unable to suppress a chuckle when Jack groaned into his mouth.

In retaliation, Jack broke the kiss to move his lips to Mac’s neck and bite down, the chuckle dying in Mac’s throat and morphing into a moan. “Not laughing anymore, baby?” he teased against his neck, rolling his hips down and ending the motion on a thrust, because why not?

The friction was enough to make Mac shake, fingers digging into the hard muscle around Jack’s shoulders. “Please, Jack.” He flailed a hand out for the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of lube that just lived next to the lamp because they always seemed to be using it. He shoved it between their bodies while Jack sunk his teeth into the skin above Mac’s collarbone.

“Like I said, impatient,” Jack grinned, pulling away and grabbing the lube to pour it on his fingers. He moved his hand to Mac’s ass and slowly pushed a finger inside.

“And you’re a tease,” Mac retorted, the last syllable arching up into a whine when that probing finger found his prostate. A second finger joined the first, probably in direct response to that comment, but it had Mac practically writhing underneath Jack, and he was gasping by the time Jack pushed in a third finger and spread them. “Fuck, Jack… please. Please.”

And Jack took a second to relish in the fact that Mac trusted him enough for this, that he trusted someone as dangerous as him as completely as he did—if the incident with the belt didn’t prove that, nothing would. “Okay, darlin’,” he said against Mac’s throat, and pulled his fingers out to slick himself up.

When he pushed inside it was like sinking into pure heated softness that gripped him in just the right way, and it drove him absolutely crazy. Mac was breathing rapidly as Jack’s cock filled him up, his hands gripping Jack’s shoulders tightly. Once he bottomed out, Jack stilled and pressed a soft kiss to Mac’s jaw, waiting for him to stabilize a little.

“I love you,” Mac said softly, smiling when Jack raised his head to look at him. He kissed Jack on the mouth before he lifted his other leg to twine around his waist. “I’m good. Move.”

“Bossy,” Jack commented, kissing Mac again. “I love you too.”

And then he started moving, hips snapping lightly at first before he buried himself inside Mac with slow, deep thrusts that made Mac release those breathless sounds that Jack loved to hear. He grabbed Mac’s hands where they were twisted up in the bedsheets and pinned them on either side of his head, hips not faltering in their rhythm. Mac shivered and moaned when Jack’s lips moved back to his neck, teeth grazing his skin as he started thrusting harder, nailing Mac’s prostate every few thrusts, something between a sob and a scream emerging from Mac’s throat.

Jack was back to thinking he might not survive this, but now he was wondering if he’d be taking Mac with him from the noises he was making. They were almost kissing, but it was more like panting against each other’s mouths with the occasional swipe of tongue or accidental bite. One thrust caught Mac particularly deep and he made a strangled sound and pressed up against Jack’s hold. Jack’s grip on Mac instinctively tightened to make sure he stayed down and he kept snapping his hips, but then once again he thrusted even deeper and Mac pressed up against his hold, and suddenly Jack wondered if maybe he took things too far and Mac actually wanted to get away.

But when Jack let up enough that Mac could break free, all he did was wrap his arms around Jack’s neck and pull him down for a real kiss, all tongues and teeth. Apparently that coupled with another one of those deep, bruising thrusts was enough for Mac to come untouched, moaning loudly against Jack’s mouth and shuddering like he’d been electrocuted. Mac clenching around him almost made Jack see stars and he thrusted into Mac a few more times before coming as well, collapsing on top of him, burying his face in Mac’s neck and breathing heavily against his skin.

Mac was sucking in air too, shifting until he could wrap his arms around Jack’s body instead of his neck. He let his legs fall to either side of Jack’s hips and pressed his lips to the side of Jack’s head. When Jack didn’t move, Mac rubbed his hand up and down Jack’s back. “Are you okay?” That was about the time Jack started fake-snoring, extremely loudly, and Mac smacked him in the ribs even as he started laughing. “Asshole, I thought something was wrong! You don’t get to fall asleep on me now.”

Jack also laughed, lifting himself up to look down at Mac, his expression going soft when their eyes met. He combed the hair back out of Mac’s eyes before leaning down to press a chaste kiss against his lips. “I really love you, you know?”

“I love you too,” Mac said, hands resting in the dip of Jack’s spine. One of them ran up to stroke the back of Jack’s neck, the look on his face nothing but fond. “So did I get my point across?”

Jack stared at him for a moment before he remembered how this all started, and he ducked his head with a little smile. “You did. I’m sorry for… you know, making a big deal about it.”

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize,” Mac said, sliding a hand around to cup Jack’s jaw. “If something bothers you, you can always tell me. And I’m always happy to prove you wrong with sex.”

“Of course you are,” Jack said, nuzzling Mac’s cheek. “You know, I didn’t realize how much of a sex addicted imp you were before we got together.”

Mac flushed, his smile widening a bit. “Would you believe I never liked sex that much before we got together?” When Jack looked at him, surprised and kind of unsure what would be so special about _him_ that it suddenly changed Mac’s opinion about sex, Mac raised a hand to thumb over the lines creasing Jack’s forehead. “You know what I want before I do half the time, and you always make me feel… incredible. Not just when we have sex, but all the time.”

Jack kissed the inside of Mac’s wrist. “All I want is for you to be happy. And I think it goes without saying, but you make me feel pretty incredible too. Every day.”

“Good,” Mac said, happiness and affection shining in those eyes Jack loved so much.

He pulled him down for a kiss, and Jack made a mental note to send Riley some flowers as a thank you for making Mac buy that damn belt in Kentucky.


End file.
